Growing up, there was this hill no too far away from where I lived. On this hill was a sidewalk that just suddenly ended by turning into lawn. Shortly off the end of the sidewalk was a tree.

My friends and I would strap on our rollerblades, skate over to that hill and crest it. We would then get going as fast as we could down the sidewalk, with the goal of hitting the end of it, hard. We had competitions to see who would fly the furthest when hitting that stop, with extra cool points for actually hitting the tree.

Yeah, we were cool.

And dear God no, helmets and pads are for dorks. There was no way any of us were wearing any protection.